Crimson Regret
by Vampyres.Werewolves.Inferi
Summary: Every male in the Malfoy family has been given a dagger for their 13th birthday ‘since the days of Slytherin himself.’ Each one has decided what to do with it on their own, every reason more sinister than the one before. Draco, however, used it for the mo


"Crimson Regret"

Summary: Every male in the Malfoy family has been given a dagger for their 13th birthday 'since the days of Slytherin himself.' Each one has decided what to do with it on their own, every reason more sinister than the one before. Draco, however, used it for the most disconcerting reason of all. HP/DM, self-mutilation, suicide, character death.

Disclaimer: Don't own it. Don't pretend to…but I'd _like_ to own a life-size Malfoy…or a Harry…wink

"_I tried to kill the pain,_

_But only brought more._

_I lay dying,_

_And I'm pouring_

_Crimson regret,_

_And betrayal…"_

-Tourniquet, Evanescence

As Draco entered his room, he let the tears he'd been holding since he left the astronomy tower fall hot and steady down his pale cheeks. The salty liquid burned his eyes, but he couldn't stop. He had been through the halls of Hogwarts for the last time.

He found what he'd been searching for in his trunk, a silver dagger with emeralds in the hilt. It had been a present from his father for his 13th birthday.

_ Flashback _

'You're a man now, Draco,' his father said when he opened the last heavy package. 'Every man in our family has received a dagger for his birthday since the days of Slytherin himself.'

Draco knew he wasn't related to Slytherin, but his family had been around since then, maybe even before. He liked the dagger, it was beautiful. Draco liked beautiful things.

_ End Flashback _

That fact had not changed as he had grown, and it may have been the reason he was doing this now. But there was no turning back. Draco Malfoy had made up his mind, and once he did, there was no stopping him.

It really was a shame his father had been given the kiss. But maybe he'd be there to greet Draco on the other side.

He changed out of his school robes and into his favorite grey cashmere sweater, it set off his eyes, and his favorite black slacks. He wanted to leave the world with the same elegant style he had entered it. He sat at the end of his ebony four-poster, tears still streaming, and he put a silencing charm on the room. Draco Malfoy was no stranger to pain, but he knew he would scream when the end came, and he didn't want anyone to hear it. He also locked the door, and made it imperturbable, so no one could disturb him.

As he rolled up his sleeves and the small blade made contact with the milk white skin on his wrists, Draco felt a weight lift off his shoulders. His crimson blood made small droplets on the dark emerald sheets, and he felt, at last, at peace, knowing the end was near.

_ Flashback _

He knew he had to tell him how he felt, but it was too hard. There was too much at stake, too much to lose. Malfoys were proud, and Draco liked his pride. He wasn't looking to burn it to a crisp, or worse, lose it entirely. And besides, he was ashamed of the fact that he had fallen in love with the Boy-who-refused-to-die, Harry bloody Potter, and how could Pothead possibly love him back? There was too much bad blood between the two for anything possibly to come of his infatuation. But it didn't stop him from writing the letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_I just wanted you to know that I've watched you. And I wanted you to know how truly beautiful you are. In case no one's ever told you, you most certainly are. And I like beautiful things. As a matter of fact, I love you. It's such a relief finally to write it. I love you, Harry. I love you!_

_Shame you'll never know who I am…_

_Till we meet in the end,_

_Shadowmaker_

_P.S. - My owl will know where to find me._

He had received a return owl, and they were in correspondence for months. And Harry, though he knew Shadowmaker knew his name, always signed his letters 'Darkslayer.' It was an amusing parry back and forth, Harry always saying he was a slayer of dark, trying to force Shadowmaker's identity into the light. By the time they had made arrangements to meet, Harry had confessed he was gay so as not to disappoint should Shadowmaker turn out to be a girl. But Draco had laughed it off in his next letter, and told Harry no girl would ever fall for his hair in the state it was in. It was hair only a mother, or fellow male, could love, he said. Harry knew a lot about this 'Shadowmaker,' they both played Quidditch, both went to school together, even had classes together. Harry knew he must know this secret admirer well having been in classes together for now seven years. He could only hope it was the person _he_ secretly admired. Though the chance was slim. How on earth could Draco Malfoy love Harry Potter?

Little did he know that halfway across the school, Draco was receiving his letters, and praying to whatever gods would listen that Harry wouldn't hate him that night. They were scheduled to meet at the bottom of the Astronomy Tower at eight, and go stargazing. Both were suckers for a cloudless starry night.

End Flashback

Draco dug deeper with each cut, knowing the pain was nothing compared to what he was feeling inside.

He could no longer count the thin red lines crossing and criss-crossing his forearms any longer. All he knew was the inebriating feeling that it would all be over soon.

Flashback, continued…

When Draco saw Harry approaching, his breath caught in his throat. Harry looked up, saw Draco staring, white as death, and almost fainted. He grabbed a wall for support, and gasped for the breath that seemed to have escaped him when he saw Draco standing there. Draco's mouth opened and shut several times, wordlessly, but he finally resigned himself to the fact that someone had to speak, and it should be him.

"Hullo, Harry…" He began, his voice stronger than he felt, but still trembling.

"Hullo," Harry responded, still resisting the urge to pass out. He'd been wrong. It was Draco. His stomach was somewhere lurking around his Adam's apple, and his heart was threatening to pound its way out of his chest with a fierce cadence. The noise was deafening, he wasn't sure how he managed to hear Draco's next words.

"Look, I understand if you don't want to…well, you know…if you want to go back to your common room, or whatever…" Draco tried, timidly.

"No. Actually, I was hoping it would be you," Harry confessed, and relief flooded through him. Draco _loved_ him. He was the happiest he had been in a long time.

Draco offered his arm, and Harry took it, then they began their ascent to the roof. When they arrived at the top of the tower, they were amazed by the sight that met them. A meteor shower was slowly falling across the Forbidden Forrest, like a thousand shooting stars twinkling in the distance. Draco felt his breath catch for the second time that evening, and Harry gasped audibly. The two stood in awe of the beauty before them, and they watched in stunned silence for a good quarter hour. But something in Harry was telling him he couldn't do this. Draco felt it in the light contact of their linked arms, there was an unnatural tension to Harry's forearm. Harry felt it, too, but he was too busy fighting an internal battle. It was impossible to think that the two could ever be anything more than enemies in the public eye.

Harry turned to Draco, tilted the blonde's head up, and kissed him. There was no more tension, the kiss was electric with pent-up passion and desire. Harry broke the kiss as abruptly as he had started it, however, and looked into Draco's eyes.

"I love you," he said, "But I can't do this.

"It would never work!" Harry said, more to convince himself than anything else. "All my friends hate you, and your friends certainly aren't rolling out the welcome mat for me, either. Gryffindors and Slytherins will never start banging down each other's doors begging for friendship, and we'd be asking for trouble…I'm sorry, Draco. But know that I love you, and that every day I know you love me too, and we can't be together, I die a little more."

Draco took Harry's hand, and looked into those beautiful emerald orbs, which were now bright with tears. "I will die happy knowing you love me, and you know I love you." Then, he kissed the raven-haired Gryffindor one last time, and returned to his room, knowing that if he didn't do this then, there was the risk he'd wake up, and it would all have been a dream.

End Flashback

Which left him where he was now.

His sheets were now damp with the deep scarlet of his blood. He was starting to feel numb and lightheaded. Draco looked to the door to make sure his charms were still in effect. When he saw they were, he continued his scrupulous effort.

Draco looked down at his arms, noticing how much blood had already been shed. It was time, he decided, and he positioned the dagger against his chest, willing himself, uselessly, not to scream. But he knew he would. The end had come.

As Draco pushed with all his might, he did scream. He screamed through his tears, and knew, as life went black and died out of him, that he was loved. Harry had loved him too.

Draco Malfoy died happy, knowing there was no other way.

"_My wounds cry for the grave,_

_My soul cries for deliverance,_

_Will I be denied Christ,_

_Tourniquet,_

_My Suicide…"_

- Tourniquet, by Evanescence

_Fin._


End file.
